Free Jellied Eels and Zeppelins by Sue Taylor Page B

never really said anything about his fire service work, except when a bomb dropped on Ensign on the place where they kept all the liquids, spirits and that for the work. It all caught alight and he got his shoes burnt… his feet got red hot, but, as he was leading fireman, he had to stand there you see. He used to tow this big tender with a truck. Directly the siren went he was on duty. We used to come down to Doddinghurst sometimes for a sleep in the shed to get away from all the noise, though we weren’t supposed to. You weren’t supposed to come out of your area if you were a fireman, but we didn’t do it often.
    Because the work I was doing at Ensign was classed as luxury trade, they closed down our floor, which is why I went into ammunitions. I was the last one to go.

    Colleagues at the munitions factory, Walthamstow
    I also worked as an inspector in a munitions factory in Billet Road, Walthamstow, where I oversaw the making of tracer bullets and gun parts. I used to do a fortnight of days and a fortnight of nights. I was there when I got married. I was there for about a fortnight and they put me on as inspector. I used to set all the machines up in the morning or at night. I loved it. I would inspect all the little parts that went in the bombs and we assembled them. I used to have to check them all and check the girls to make sure they did their work.
    I was paid by the Woolwich Arsenal by cheque once a month through the Post Office. They got me the job at the Labour Exchange. I had to have an examination by a doctor before I went there and I had to make a will to say what I was going to leave to my Mum. In the middle of a raid, we used to have to rush out and go into the dugout, where I would sit crocheting.
    When I was on nights, I would work from eight at night ‘til eight in the morning. When I was on days, it would be from eight in the morning ‘til eight at night for another fortnight. And I also made ammunition boxes for Cabinet Industries Ltd on the Arterial Road, with Cousin Flo.’

Fourteen
Roses and Wedding Cakes
    ‘I didn’t leave Mum ‘til I was 30, ‘cos I loved her so much. I had my wedding dress made by old friends of ours, who were court dressmakers up in London, and my sister’s bridesmaid’s outfit - her dress, headdress, her gloves, shoes, everything - she was my matron of honour. I was going to have a little one to hold my train. She was three, but her mother had to go away, because they evacuated mothers who were expecting babies.
    I bought all the flowers, even the buttonholes, as well as the wedding breakfast. It was with the money I’d saved since I was a toddler. The only thing I borrowed, was my sister’s wedding veil. We went and saw a bedroom suite we wanted in Hoe Street and we hadn’t got quite enough money - we wanted another £3, I think it was. So my Dad said ‘I’ll loan you the £3, but I want it back,’ so I went and paid for it and got it delivered to our flat, and I paid my father back with my first week’s wages afterwards.
    My father grew us some flowers on his allotment and we had those on the tables. The flowers in my bouquet came from Alda’s florist in Hoe Street. I remember my bouquet cost £2 and 10 shillings and my sister’s was £1 and 10 shillings. My bouquet consisted of red roses and white heather and Florrie wore a dress of lavender and her bouquet was all lovely tea roses.

    Ethel and Joe’s wedding. September 1940. Florrie was bridesmaid and Joe’s brother best man
    When we were standing at the altar, the warning went and the bombs were dropping. We couldn’t have the church bells and we couldn’t have the choir, because they had all been evacuated, so all we had was the organ.
    Oh, and I’ll never forget it. I’ll tell you what happened. It was a High Church, St. Michael’s and All Angels mind, and they burnt incense in there. There was a man who waited at the door to lead you in. He was a little man in a little hat with a knob on the